


Adrenaline

by Guardian



Series: Symbiote Wade AU [2]
Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics)
Genre: Arguing, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separation Anxiety, Sleep Deprivation, brief mentions of previous torture, dramatic goo Wade, the Summers clan handles their traumas kinda poorly tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 00:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian/pseuds/Guardian
Summary: Set immediately followingHello, HandsomeNate can't sleep.Wade doesn't even know what that is.
Relationships: Hope Summers & Nathan Summers, Hope Summers & Wade Wilson, Nathan Summers/Wade Wilson
Series: Symbiote Wade AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538296
Comments: 31
Kudos: 213





	Adrenaline

Five days.

Five days since his daughter was taken from him to be experimented on. Five days since Nate had known anything resembling a good night's sleep.

Hope is safe now. He keeps telling himself that. Everything's fine. But sleep still doesn't come easy. Maybe it's because he's past the point of hypervigilance, and now his nerves are shot. Or maybe it's the fact that he's still sitting in the pilot's seat of their stolen ship, still staring out into the void of space, anticipating some attack that won't come. There's nothing around them for ages. But every time his eyes close for a half second too long, every time his brain starts to give in and shut down, he wakes up again with renewed anxiety.

** _Nate._ **

Wade's voice is soft in his head, but it still startles him. That time, he hadn't even realized he'd drifted off. And for an instant, he can't quite remember his current surroundings.

"Hope?" Nate asks, aloud, instinctively searching for her. The ship. They're on the new ship. The one they took after finding her, after Hope and Wade ended up rescuing  _ him,  _ and they all escaped.

** _Safe, _ ** Wade reminds him. It doesn't feel like the first time he's had to tell Nate that.

"Right. Sorry," Nate says, pressing a hand against his aching eyes. "Norns, I'm so tired." At this rate, it won't be much longer until he just collapses, and Nate's almost looking forward to it, just to finally get some relief.

** _Are you okay, Nate? _ ** Wade asks, hesitantly.

"Yeah," Nate says, but then remembers that being physically okay isn't the same as being emotionally okay, and that's okay. "No."

** _Hurts? _ ** Wade says, touching his mind gently. It's both a question and not, because Wade knows what Nate is feeling. But this is new. He has no context for what this is, or how to help.  ** _How do I make it okay, Nate?_ **

"I'll be fine," Nate reassures him, but Wade isn't reassured at all. "I just… I can't fall asleep. I'm scared," he admits, laughing weakly at the futility of it all.

** _Scared why?_ **

"Scared… of losing Hope again. Scared that I'm already dreaming and none of this is real and we're still on that fucking ship and you're still dead," Nate says, shaking his head. "I don't know. It took me a long time to find her, Wade. Too long. The whole time, I had to keep going. Had to tell myself I'd get her back somehow, even if it killed me. Be brave, for her. There was no other option. But now that's all over. Right? It's over. So I'm tired. And I'm scared. And I can't sleep. And that's just how it is right now."

Wade is quiet, trying to read Nate's thoughts, trying to understand and figure out how to help. 

Nate's thoughts are a mess. It's more upsetting than Wade wants to admit to see him like this. Nate's mind is always organized and clear. Well, Wade has known Nate's mind for less than a day, but it still seems uncharacteristic for him. His mind keeps  _ wandering,  _ starting to forget, and every time it slips, Nate comes back to the present in a panic, temporarily unable to remember that Hope is safe now.

Wade isn't sure if this is normal. It doesn't feel normal. Nate's brain chemistry feels all wrong, and he has no idea what to do with it. Dopamine, serotonin, those are things Wade likes. Whatever this is, he doesn't like it. It makes Nate  _ tired,  _ and Nate's head is drowning in it.

But Nate isn't concerned by it. Nate keeps longing for the  _ tired _ to fulfill its purpose, and Wade trusts that Nate knows best about what his body needs. When his mind wanders again, Nate keeps thinking about something to lie down on. A big and soft and warm thing Nate calls a  _ bed.  _ Lying down seems nice. Lying down with Nate would be lovely. A bed would be even better than a floor. But despite this want, Nate just won't go, so Wade takes initiative, rousing him again, urging him up.

** _Maybe we should go upstairs._ **

"What? Why?" Nate wonders. His thoughts are so much slower to process, but Wade waits patiently, concerned by every lagging microsecond between neurons. "Hope's room is upstairs. I don' wanna bother her."

A room. A private space for a human, where there's a bed, is the explanation Nate's brain supplies. Hope certainly found a room upstairs. They had sat on the bed she'd claimed for herself, and talked for hours. That was nice, and strange, and frightening in the way Hope could be frightening. But there was more than just that one room.

** _Everything is upstairs, _ ** Wade reminds Nate, gently.

Nate's eyes hurt. Wade rubs them for him. Blocking out the light helps. "Whaddoyoumean?"

** _Other rooms. Beds. Two of them. _ **

Nate processes this information slowly. Grapples with it. Struggles with the idea of leaving the controls, but then his last bit of rationale wins. They've been drifting in the middle of nowhere for hours already. There's no one coming, and no rush to go anywhere else just yet. There's time for Nate to crawl into bed and just collapse.

Wade still isn't sure why Nate has a craving for sometimes being still and quiet and not thinking, but he remembers the 'meditating' and it feels like Nate needs that again. Except, in a bed it works better for some reason. And Wade is okay with that. He doesn't look forward to the quiet for however many minutes it takes, but Nate might let him explore again, and that possibility excites him. He might spend more time stroking their hand over Nate's beard stubble. It felt nice.

Nate's thoughts aren't the only thing that's slow -- his body is slow too. Wade gives him support, but doesn't dare to try hurrying Nate along. Instead, the symbiote worries to itself and skulks around the areas of Nate's body that have been replaced by the T.O. virus, wondering if that parasitic bitch is the one doing this to his host. But the virus is still seemingly dormant since Wade attacked it, and he still has no answers.

"I'm just tired," Nate reassures him, picking up on Wade's restlessness and worry, but not much of anything specific beyond that. The first unoccupied bedroom Wade guides him towards has a low, wide bed that's already made, pillows and all, and that's more than good enough for him. He goes down slowly, collapses into the softness and immediately feels his bones ache in relief and knows he won't be getting back up anytime soon.

** _Good?_ **

"Yeah," Nate sighs, dragging a pillow towards his face. He only wishes he'd taken off his boots, and some of his gear, but he has no intentions of moving again.

Instead, he feels the symbiote move for him, down his legs. After a moment of fiddling, the boots come off and fall onto the floor. Nate huffs into his pillow in amusement. "Thanks." And then Wade settles across him, gently working at every muscle, every single spot that aches and soothing it away, and he can't stop himself from groaning in relief.

** _Good._ **

"Real good," Nate affirms. All that's left is the exhaustion. But now he thinks he could sleep. It's just a matter of time

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Nate wonders aloud. The question is rhetorical, but he feels Wade pondering the question sincerely, and doesn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

** _You held me._ **

Nate lets out a soft breath. He's too tired to do anything else, but he lifts his hand and rests it on the back of his head, his thumb brushing over the nape of his neck. Wade isn't there. Wade is still somewhere inside, under his skin. But the slow stroke of his thumb feels nice, and he knows Wade can feel it too, because even Wade's nervous chaos calms for a moment under his touch.

  
  
  


** _Nate? Nate!_ **

"What--" Nate is up before his mind even catches up, leaning on his elbows and staring deliriously into the dark, heart pounding.

Danger? A threat? Hope? But there's no information provided, either from Wade or his own senses. No information  _ to  _ provide, other than Wade wrapping around him anxiously.

** _Nate. Nate. Nate. You were so quiet, _ ** Wade sobs.

Nate sinks back onto the mattress with a groan. He's too tired to change positions, or seek out a pillow, or cope with Wade's hysterical fussing.

"I was  _ sleeping,"  _ Nate mumbles. "I just need to sleep for a while, Wade, okay? Please."

  
  


As tired as he is, Nate drifts off again almost instantly. It would be a welcome relief, except Wade panics and wakes him again.

  
  


** _NATE._ **

  
  


Nate barely startles this time. He makes an exhausted sound and rubs his eyes.

** _You're dying, _ ** Wade babbles, all in a frenzy.  ** _You're dying and I don't know why. I don't know how to fix this. Nate. Nate. Please. I did everything right I don't understand._ **

"Wade."

** _I don't understand. I don't understand. _ **

"I'm not dying. I'm okay," Nate says firmly. He  _ feels  _ like death, and being interrupted is the single most infuriating thing right now, but Wade is so scared and so pitiful that he can't possibly be angry. "I need to sleep. Humans need sleep, Wade."

** _But this isn't the same, _ ** Wade insists. He sounds so terrified, so certain, that Nate almost doubts himself, but after a lifetime of constantly fighting off an ever-encroaching deadly virus in his system, Nate knows his own body pretty well.

"I'm overtired. I've been running on mostly adrenaline for days," Nate tries to explain. "I promise, I'm not dying."

** _But when you slept before, it wasn't like this, _ ** Wade says, all pinpricks of anxiety in Nate's veins.  ** _You were quiet and still. This is different. Your brain keeps shutting down._ **

Nate is quiet for a long moment, thinking. Trying to remember the last time he actually slept, because he's pretty sure Wade has  _ never _ experienced sleep before. It couldn't have even been a day since they crossed paths and became inextricably wound around each other. Nate remembered  _ meditating,  _ but that wasn't the same thing. He'd been too wound up even then to even consider falling asleep. When they first met, Nate had been unconscious. For how long, he wasn't sure. He also wasn't quite sure if being unconscious counted as  _ sleep.  _ And he was pretty sure he'd died once, for a second, before Wade revived him. Wade hadn't been so scared about it then. But healing flesh and blood and setting his heart going again was one thing, he supposed. Feeling Nate's brain 'dying' over and over again and being unable to do anything about it was probably Wade's worst fear incarnated.

"When I 'slept' before, it wasn't like this, because that wasn't sleeping," Nate explains, drawing slow circles with his fingers against the sheets to give Wade some kind of soothing stimulus. "That was meditating. Just clearing my thoughts. Resting. But that wasn't sleeping."

** _Sleep. I think… I know that word, from my hosts, but I don't think any of them ever did that. I don't know. They died. I'm afraid._ **

"I know. But I'm not dying. I  _ will  _ die if I don't sleep, though. I don't know why, but humans can only go so long without it, and I'm at my limit. Maybe that's why I'm so tired it hurts. It doesn't usually feel like this."

** _What does it usually feel like?_ **

"Hmm," Nate sighs thoughtfully, closing his eyes. He keeps tracing patterns slowly. It helped, for both of them. "Usually I just get undressed, lay down, and go to sleep," he says. But that explanation is a little too basic for an alien that doesn't obey the same physiology, he realizes, so he rethinks and then tries again. "Humans have certain patterns for sleeping and waking. We divide our days into 24 hours. A typical pattern might be 16 of those hours awake, and 8 hours sleeping."

** _Eight hours? That's so many, _ ** Wade protests.

"Sleep is vital. Like I said, without it, we'd die. Getting too little catches up with you eventually, too. I can get by with less, but lately I've been lucky to sleep… I don't know. An hour or two, tops."

** _An hour would be okay._ **

"Mhn. I can't, though," Nate says. "I need to sleep, Wade. Really sleep. You can't keep waking me up. I love you but if you don't let me sleep, I'm gonna kill you."

** _Eight hours? _ ** Wade questions again, full of dread.

"No. It could be less," Nate says. "Normally it's a little less than that for me. But it's been a while, Wade. I might need even more sleep than that."

** _How much?_ **

"I don't know. I can't see myself sleeping for more than twelve."

** _Twelve?! Twelve, Nate, _ ** Wade says miserably.

"Sorry. If it's twelve hours, s'because I really need it," Nate assures him. "But once I fall asleep, you have to let me sleep. Unless there's an emergency. Unless someone's actually dying. I'll wake up on my own when my body's ready."

** _That's so many, _ ** Wade fusses again, quietly. Then he asks,  ** _What will it be like? While you're sleeping? Does your brain go away? Where will I go?_ **

"'m… not sure," Nate answers, his words starting to slur a little bit. "I don' think it works that way. My brain isn't going anywhere. It doesn't actually  _ shut down.  _ Humans have conscious minds and unconscious minds. When we're awake, there's all these things we consciously do. Talking. Eating. Math. But there's all kinds of things our bodies always do, without thinking about it."

** _Digesting._ **

Nate laughs. "Sure. But also our lungs keep breathing. Our hearts keep beating. Even while we're asleep. And our brains keep going, too, in a way. They play pictures. Like when you think about something, but you can see it 's called dreaming."

** _Dream pictures._ **

"Mm."

** _Moving ones?_ **

"Mmhm."

** _You'll show me pictures when you sleep?_ **

"Hmn. I don't know. I dunno what you'll see. I don't have any control over what my subconscious mind might dream up. Sometimes I don't dream at all. At least, not that I can remember. You'll have to lemme know. When I wake up."

** _Okay._ **

  
  


** _Nate._ **

"Hm."

** _I don't want to be alone._ **

** _What should I do?_ **

"You can… hold me," Nate suggests. "Stick your fingers in my mouth. Whatever you want. I don' really care. Just be easy, or else you'll wake me up and then I might start getting angry."

** _Okay._ **

** _Okay._ **

** _Nate?_ **

** _I miss you._ **

"Miss you too. Big baby," Nate mumbles. "Now be quiet, Wade. If you're good… 'll make it up to you when I wake up. Promise."

** _Okay, _ ** Wade says, quieter, but no less anxious.  ** _Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay._ **

  
  
  


Nate doesn't remember dreaming at all.

When he wakes, he feels warm and relaxed. Still cursedly tired, and wishing he were still asleep, but this is a normal everyday level of tired instead of a painful one. He stretches slightly, inhales, and buries his face into his pillow again.

Wade moves across his shoulders slowly, the symbiote tucking itself into the crook of his neck. Warm. Feels so nice.

** _Nate? _ ** Wade questions, after a long few seconds. 

"Yeah. I'm up."

He can feel the symbiote's puzzled thoughts and concern, and then Wade physically pushing at his face, as if gently patting him.

** _Not up, Nate. Lying down. You're still confused. _ **

Nate laughs softly and rubs his eyes. "No. Not up. You're right. I don't wanna get up."

** _More sleeping? _ ** Wade wonders, his deep disappointment laid over with regretful understanding. 

"No. I'm awake. I just mean I don't want to get out of bed yet."

** _Are you hurt? Sick? _ ** Wade wonders, sinking into Nate's skin, and then Nate can feel Wade gently prodding at his internal organs, and it feels  _ weird. _

_ "Don't _ do that," Nate huffs, pressing a hand against his stomach to ease away that bad-weird feeling. "I'm not sick. This is a normal part of the sleep thing. Humans don't want to go to bed at night and then don't want to get  _ out _ of bed in the morning."

** _That doesn't make sense._ **

"I know. We're idiots. Please don't touch my organs, they aren't meant to be touched."

** _But they're so soft. What is this one called?_ **

"I don't  _ know," _ Nate groans. "I don't know what you're touching because everything you're doing right now is not normal."

**_It's wet,_** Wade says, as if that's supposed to be a clue.

"They are  _ all  _ wet. Knock it off!"

** _Okay,_ ** Wade sulks, slinking off elsewhere into Nate's veins.

"How long did I sleep?"

** _Forever. You were dreaming about… people and places that don't exist. I don't really remember._ **

"Yeah. That's normal for dreaming. What time is it?"

** _What's 'time'?_ **

"Clocks," Nate mutters to himself. He's finally annoyed enough to get out of bed, throwing the covers aside and sitting up to grab his boots. "There's got to be a clock around here somewhere. What, Skrulls don't believe in clocks?"

** _Num-bers…_ ** Wade drawls, as he tries to pull the information from Nate's mind, but he quickly becomes bored.  ** _Don't care._ **

"A day is 24 hours," Nate reminds him.

** _Why?_ **

"Why?" Nate repeats, incredulous, but then realizes that the question is kind of valid, especially coming from an alien lifeform. "Because 24 hours is how long it takes the earth to rotate while it orbits around the sun."

** _Earth and sun? What are those? _ ** Wade asks, probing through Nate's mind again to find the answers for himself, because it's quicker that way, like a rapid-fire conversation.  ** _What's a PLANET? What's a sun? A star?? I know star. A planet is dirt ball??? There are MANY dirt balls? Why is THAT one special? Use a shorter dirt ball._ **

"You were complaining last night that eight hours is a long time. How can you complain when you don't even know what an hour is?" Nate asks, jerking his laces tight as he ties his boots.

** _I know how long. Too long! That's how long. And twenty-four sounds like so many._ **

"It's… it's just how we count, okay," Nate sighs. "It's been like that for thousands of years."

** _Uggh. 'Thousands' is even MORE. Boring. Use a better system. One, two. Simple. Why would you need more than that? Sun sets, sun rises. Sets and rises where? There is NO dirt ball here. No planet. No set, no rise. Just stars, all the times, always. Forever. No days in space, Nate. Humans are dumb._ **

"There are still days. Time still exists," Nate insists. "Just because there isn't a sun setting and rising on a horizon to mark the passing days doesn't mean they don't exist."

** _Don't exist! No days._ **

"I'm not arguing with you," Nate says, in a low, pissy tone. He finishes tying his laces and lets his boot drop to the floor a little too heavily.

** _Good. No need to argue. Am right._ **

Nate gets to his feet and leaves the room. "You're wrong. But there's no point in arguing. I'm just going to find a clock and prove that you're wrong."

** _Clock is stupid. Why would you care what number it tells you?_ **

"Because-" Nate begins to make a sharp reply, but then trails off abruptly when he realizes that none of his answers make sense. There aren't a lot of other human vessels that he and Hope keep in contact with, and even if there were, the crews usually kept oddd hours anyway, so it's not like he needed to know when it was night, or morning, or mid afternoon. He'd either catch the crew sleeping or not. And the same was basically true for ships with crews that didn't use Earth Standard Time. They'd be on a different time system, but there was little point to converting for it because almost all ship crews had strange hours. Big crews might keep track of time, but they rotated shifts. Knowing the time really only mattered when they went topside to some planet, but every single planet was different. The sun was either up or it wasn't. People were either asleep or they weren't.

"Because I like to know," Nate grumbles.

** _You are so cute when you're angry._ **

"I'm not cute, I'm not mad, and you're  _ not _ right," Nate says, but he can feel Wade laughing at his thoughts.

** _Okay. Handsome, _ ** Wade amends.

"Yeah, yeah. And you're cute when you're panicking because you don't know that humans have to  _ sleep." _

** _Not funny, Nate._ **

"I didn't say it was funny. I said it was cute."

Wade still doesn't like that answer, apparently. Nate can feel him sulking somewhere inside his veins, remembering the worry, the waiting.

Nate heads down to the control room first. He checks their surroundings -- still no sign of life anywhere near them, thank the stars -- and then sits down and fiddles with the onboard computer until he manages to get it to spit out the equivalent of the current Earth Standard Time.

"It's two in the afternoon," Nate says, feeling vindicated for no reason at all whatsoever.

** _So what? So what? Two inside after moon? Meaningless._ **

"Shut up, slime."

** _Meat stick._ **

"You're lucky you're cute." Nate checks to make sure the ship is still drifting safely and then gets up again. "Let's find something to eat."

  
  


-

  
  


Nate had just finished making something resembling a breakfast when Hope joins them in the messroom, apparently having had the same idea.

They sit down across from each other at a long white table with sleek, built-in benches on either side. It was obviously built for a small crew, but the extra space is appreciated nonetheless. 

They're both quiet, eating their fill with a single-minded focus. When Hope finally satiates her hunger, she sits back and turns sideways in her seat, kicking her feet up on the bench, and plants an elbow on the table to keep picking at the rest of her plate. She looks as tired as Nate still feels.

"How did you sleep?" Nate asks.

"Like shit," Hope grunts, her brow furrowed with displeasure. "I slept. I was tired. But it was just…"

"It wasn't restful?" Nate guesses.

"Not even close," Hope sighs, full of frustration. Disappointment with herself. "I thought I was okay. I mean. I know I'm okay. But I still had nightmares anyway. I kept dreaming I was back in that fucking cell."

Nate hesitates. As bad as those five days were for him, Hope was going through hell too. There's a stab of guilt for not asking sooner, but he knows how Hope is. She's strong. Stubborn. It doesn't mean she can't feel the aftermath of something traumatic, but it does mean that he has an inkling of how she'll handle it, because he knows how  _ he _ handles things.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, but he already knows what the answer will be. "I think we should," he adds, regardless.

"No. I just wanna forget that shithole," Hope says.

"So do I," Nate sighs. "Those Skrulls were idiots."

"They were so stupid!" Hope blurts out. "They kept coming to take my blood, and then after pricking me ten thousand  _ fucking  _ times for a vein and draining me dry, this fucker -- this  _ dumb fuck  _ \-- she's like, 'do you need something to eat?' Nah! I'm one of those everlasting fountains of fucking blood that doesn't need to eat. What organism doesn't fucking  _ eat?!" _

"The one I had would  _ not _ shut up," Nate says. "One of those self-fellating intellectual types, yet he couldn't grasp the concept of adoption. He kept trying to bring up the fact that you and I aren't genetically related, as if it would shock me. No shit, fuckass, I was there."

"Ugh. Knife fetish grandpa? He's the worst. He kept popping into my cell to 'check' on me and tell me in horny detail about how he looked forward to dissecting me."

"That perv stabbed me."

"Gross. He probably got off on it, you know."

Nate cringes in disgust. "I wouldn't doubt it."

"The worst part was just…" Hope trails off, quieter. "As stupid as it was, I couldn't just  _ leave. _ I couldn't get myself out. Couldn't even punch that blood sucking prick in the throat."

"There are some fights you can't win on your own. If you're up against a wall, and the only way over it is with a hand up from a comrade, so what? Grab it."

"Yeah. I know," Hope says. "Or in this case, a tentacle."

"Or a tentacle," Nate agrees, amused. "If it helps, I could barely fall asleep last night either. Every time I started to doze off, I kept waking up in a panic. Thinking you were still gone. Wade had to keep reminding me everything was okay."

"What a good boyfriend that you've only known for a day."

"Hope."

"What? If it were me you'd give me shit."

"You're damn right I would."

"What if you catch some kind of space STD?" Hope continues, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "You know, space slimes only want one thing. If you don't use protection, you're gonna end up space pregnant."

"I'm not gonna get space pregnant."

"You don't know that. Wade could be laying millions of eggs in you as we speak."

"If this is revenge for the time I tried to give you The Talk--"

"Oh, is  _ that _ what that was?" Hope asks, her eyes wide with innocence and her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Four years  _ after _ I already learned everything off the infonet--"

"Then it's very effective, thank you," Nate finishes dryly.

"Hold on, I forgot to do all of the awkward 'uh, UH, UM, UMMMM…'" Hope trails off the exaggerated mockery, staring at Nate's arm. She reaches across the table, grabbing his wrist to pull his arm towards her. It takes her a second to realize exactly what seemed so  _ off.  _ "Umm. Aren't veins supposed to be blue?" she asks, dragging her finger over his skin. "Yours are  _ red." _

Nate looks down and rubs his thumb over the vein. "That's Wade. He's been skulking around inside of me all morning."

** _No I haven't, _ ** Wade denies, and then the vivid red color washes away, leaving behind the usual bluish color.

"That's pretty cool," Hope says. "Why is he skulking?"

"Wade had kind of a rough night too," Nate confides. "He was also in a panic."

** _Was not!_ **

"A gay panic?" Hope questions, droll.

"Not yet," Nate quips. 

Wade comes back, pooling up from around Nate's wrist and forming a very small snake-like to defend himself.  ** _"Liar. Liar, liar, liar," _ ** he hisses, and then opens his little snake mouth and bites Nate's knuckle.

"Ow," Nate says at the mild pinprick of Wade's tiny fangs. 

** _"Did not panic. Don't care. Dumb human."_ **

"Oh, Wade. Come on," Nate says softly. "My feelings would be hurt if I didn't know yours were hurt first."

** _"Not hurt. I don't care you anymore."_ **

"Awww. I care you, baby goo," Hope coos, petting Wade's little snek head. 

Wade stops biting Nate, closes his eyes into little white slits and then opens his mouth wide and lets out a pitiful, [ squeaking cry](https://youtube.com/watch?v=iIj1ih7zBBI).

"What did you  _ do  _ to him?" Hope asks, glaring at Nate.

Nate sighs. "I had to  _ sleep. _ Wade thought I was dying. He was very upset."

** _"Nate said he would kill me."_ **

"I said if he kept  _ waking _ me up, I'd kill him."

"Dad, what the hell? He doesn't  _ know." _

Tiny Wade faceplants dramatically into Hope's arm.

** _"He left me alone for *twenty-four* whole entire hours!"_ **

Hope's mouth falls open and she looks at Nate, concerned. "How long were we asleep?"

"It wasn't twenty-four hours you ridiculous slime," Nate sighs.

** _"A THOUSAND."_ **

"Do symbiotes not sleep?" Hope questions.

"I don't think so," Nate says. "They don't understand the concept of  _ time _ either."

Wade lifts his head from Hope's arm and looks at Nate, tipping his little snake nose up in defiance.  ** _"Fuck your stupid dirtball sun."_ **

"See? He's been like that all morning," Nate says.

"Uh-huh. You neglected him and he's acting out, why are you surprised?" Hope asks. "I was the same way."

"You were never like this."

Hope narrows her eyes at him. "Fuck your stupid dirtball sun."

"You don't even know what that means," Nate grumbles, becoming a little bit genuinely annoyed.

"I don't care. Whatever it is, I'm siding with Wade."

** _"See?"_ **

"Don't-- No," Nate shakes his head. "Wade doesn't understand Earth Standard Time. He thinks dividing the day into 24 hours is stupid."

"So what?"

"So it's a measurement of time. It's just based on Earth's rotation."

** _"In space, Nate. There is NO dumb dirt ball here."_ **

"He has a point."

"He has a stupid point. Earth still exists, time exists, and it's just a way of measuring time."

** _"Pointless."_ **

"It  _ is  _ pretty pointless," Hope agrees. "Who cares what time it is according to Earth? Everywhere else you go it's different anyway. If I gave a shit I'd be constantly warplagged."

"We care because we're  _ from _ Earth," Nate says.

_ "You  _ care. I was born on Earth but I've never even seen it," Hope says. "I'm with Wade on this one. Time is meaningless and fake."

"Hope, we've  _ time traveled." _

"Proof that it's fake! If time was real, it would have rules," Hope reasons. "Fuck the rules. Fuck time. Fuck your stupid dirtball sun."

** _"That's what I've been saying."_ **

"Alright, so, tonight when I go to sleep I won't bother telling you when I've set my alarm to wake up," Nate says. "You'll just have to suffer not knowing."

** _"You're going to sleep again?!" _ ** Wade cries, so sincerely distraught that it catches Nate off guard and ruins his moment of being petty.  ** _"But you just slept!"_ **

"Wade… humans sleep  _ every  _ night," Nate reminds him. "Remember? I told you. 24 hours in a day. 16 hours awake, 8 asleep."

** _"But I don't know what that means. That's just numbers."_ **

"Think of it like this," Hope says. "We wake up. We eat food. We do stuff. We go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. That's a day. That's every day."

** _"Every day?"_ ** Wade whines.

"I'm sorry. I'll figure out something," Nate promises. "I can leave you access to a tablet or something so you won't be bored."

** _"Not bored, Nate. Not really. Just… alonely."_ **

"Lonely," Nate corrects.

"You're not alone, little gay goo," Hope promises, petting Wade's tiny head with her fingertip. "If you start feeling like that, you just wake up Mr. Grumpyass and you make him smooch your little face. If he gives you a hard time, let me know and I'll punch him for you."

** _"Okay. What is smooch?"_ **

"A kiss," Hope explains, but Wade doesn't know that word either, but he's used to feeling constantly confused. Maybe when he asks, he will find out.

** _"Okay."_ **

"Okay. Keep winding Nate up," Hope encourages as she gets to her feet. "It's funny when he gets so mad about dumb shit."

"You're not gonna think it's dumb when we have to calculate our warp jump," Nate grumbles.

"That's not an arbitrary social structure I couldn't give a shit about, based off the number on a clock based off a planet I've never known. That's  _ science,  _ and science is rad."

"It's not arbitrary…" Nate trails off vaguely.

"What time is it right now?" Hope prompts, planting her hands on the table.

"After two."

"Alright. So if it's 2AM, you should be in bed right now, or if it's 2PM you should be having lunch instead. But you just woke up and we had breakfast and you're up for the day, aren't you? So I think we both agree social norms are completely pointless and we'll continue to do whatever the fuck we like."

Nate takes a deep breath and sighs. " _ Social constructs _ based on time are meaningless and fake."

"There it is," Hope smiles while Nate rolls his eyes. "Congrats you made it through your first fight. Now if you'll excuse me, I think this ship has an armory and I'm gonna go introduce myself."

And with that, Hope struts off, a little giddy skip in her stride.

Wade watches her go, and then tips his head back to look at Nate.

** _"Are you sure she should be your spawn? I think she should be mine," _ ** Wade teases.

Nate can see it. He really can. It's almost absurd how quickly Wade's integrated not just into his life, but  _ theirs.  _ But like Hope had put it; social norms are pointless and they'll do whatever they like.

Nate leans forward and kisses Wade, gently.

When Nate pulls back, the symbiote's white eyes are wide with shock. His emotions and thoughts are all a whirlwind of chaos that Nate can't glean any sense from. Oh, it's cute.

** _"What was that?" _ ** Wade asks, his voice pitched higher than usual.  ** _"Did you just try to eat me?!"_ **

Nate opens his mouth to speak and then pinches his lips shut again. Wade  _ really _ doesn't get it, and Nate doesn't have the heart to explain. He should probably feel like a bad person. He shouldn't find Wade's misunderstanding even more endearing. "Never mind," he says. Don't worry about it."

** _"Just because I bit you doesn't mean you should *eat* me, Nate."_ **

"That little lovebite? Nah, that didn't hurt a bit. You can bite me anytime. Just repaying the favor."

** _"Oh, okay," _ ** Wade says. And then, after a beat, ** _ "Ohokay."_ **

"And, y'know. What Hope said earlier," Nate adds, evasively.

** _"What what Hope said? You're space pregnant?"_ **

"No. If I'm sleeping and you start feeling too overwhelmed, you can wake me up."

** _"Hope said I should wake up 'Mr. Grumpyass,' whoever that is," _ ** Wade says, feigning innocence.

"You're a rotten little goo, you know that?"

** _"Ohh, there he is." _ **

Nate sighs and sits back in his seat. Wade slithers up his arm, curling around Nate's neck and melting back into his skin.

** _Sorry I lied. I do care you._ **

"I know. I care about you too," Nate says. "That's why I'm going to teach you how to tell time."

** _Noooo, _ ** Wade whines.

"Yessss. It's important, okay? Sleep isn't optional, so we need to figure out how to navigate that roadbump together," Nate says. "It won't take long. And if you're good and focus long enough to learn that, I think I have something else in mind that you'll enjoy."

Wade feels both skeptical and curious.  ** _What is it?_ **

"It's called a dictionary."

** _Wassat?_ **

"It's a treasure trove of words," Nate says. "Even more than what I already know. If you behave, I'll read whichever ones you want. We can figure out what feels good."

There's a little thrill, of rush of restless anticipation that Nate understands even before Wade forms any words to voice his excitement.  ** _Oh. I like that idea. Very. Veryvery._ **

"Yeah. I knew you would."

And then, from somewhere down the hall, the sound of something exploding sets them both on edge. 

Hope's maniacal laughter afterwards does  _ very little _ to reassure either of them.

"I think you should go check on your spawn before she blows this ship up," Nate says.

** _No, no. *Your* spawn now._ **

Nate sighs, getting to his feet. "Ours."

  
  


x


End file.
